And thirst and flies and marches that would irk
A cast-iron soldier with asbestos feet."
Know, then, the thought was fathered by the wish
We oldsters feel, that you and everyone
Who through the heat and flies conspire to dish
The "Drang nach Osten" of the beastly Hun
Shall win their strenuous virtue's modest wage.
And if at Nishapur and Babylon
The cup runs dry, we'll fill it later on,
And here where Cherwell soothes the fretful don